


Scenes From A Life

by ladyoneill



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Homophobic Language, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris realized he was gay early in his life, but an Argent male simply wasn't allowed to do anything but marry and produce more hunters and those to lead them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes From A Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Queer Fest for the prompt: Chris always knew he was gay, but Gerard didn't make his marriage to the daughter of another prominent hunting family optional. How does he negotiate his relationship with a woman he grows to care about deeply, but to whom he isn't attracted? And what does he do when she's gone?
> 
> Be aware that Gerard uses a lot of homophobic language that doesn't reflect my own beliefs obviously. Oh, also, Peter made an appearance because he's pushy and definitely my muse in this fandom. Could be leading to Peter/Chris if you want to see it that way.

Chris always knew he was different, even though, as a child he didn't know why. From an early age he liked girls, but wanted to play with boys more. He liked getting dirty and playing baseball, and he took to the gun and bow with an aptitude that pleased his father.

At barely ten years he took down his first buck and his father slapped him on the back and called him a man. Chris basked in his pride, pleased for reasons he didn't quite understand.

When he became a teenager he learned that boys could like boys more than girls. His father explained sex to him and mentioned that those boys were fags and queers. Chris got the implication that it was bad to be one.

But, he also knew he was one. Now it all made sense, why he thought about boys and not girls when he got a hard on and played with himself. Yet, his father's words bothered him, so he kept his mouth shut through the sex talk, just nodding in understanding, until his dad smiled, gave him a Playboy magazine and left him in his room.

Chris ignored the naked women and read the article on Michael Jordan.

*****

It was at a party, Freshman year in high school, when he kissed his first boy. The basement was dimly lit, all around them boys and girls were making out, all mouths and hands outside of clothes because there were bedrooms upstairs for those who wanted to go farther.

Trying to look like they'd been drinking for years Chris and Jason shared a beer, and Jason was the one to make the first move, placing a kiss on his closed mouth.

"Jas?" Chris whispered, surprised, because although he'd felt an attraction to the other boy for months, they were friends, and he'd never suspected Jason felt the same way.

Gay boys were swishy, liked girly stuff--that's what his dad had always told him, disparaging homosexuals, or fags and queers as he called them--and he and Jason both played baseball for the Freshman team, didn't care about their clothes and certainly didn't wear make-up.

For two years Chris had wondered about that, if there were different types of gay guys, as he wasn't like his dad described, but he couldn't ask him or his mom or any of the hunters he knew. So, he'd stayed quiet and tried to figure it out on his own.

"Been wanting to do that for over a month, man," Jason whispered through a sloppy grin, then moved in for another, deeper kiss.

Chris opened his mouth and moved his lips and met his tongue with his own and felt...right. His dick twitched but he knew he wasn't ready for more than just making out, and Jason's hands were clutching his biceps, not moving south, so Chris wrapped his own hands around the back of the other boys neck.

And they just kissed and kissed.

Later that night, after the party, Chris jerked off to the fantasy of Jason's big hand wrapped around his dick, slick with lotion, doing it for him.

He'd never come so hard or so fast.

*****

Chris was seventeen the summer between Junior and Senior years. The family was living in Portland, Maine, keeping control over two warring werewolf packs, eliminating those who broke the code, and he had an active role. Trained from childhood, Chris took his first life at fifteen. While not liking it, he was good at it and he knew his responsibility to his family, his linage.

But, things had been quiet for a few weeks and he had his first serious boyfriend, Nick, who was tall and dark haired and had big hands that he constantly used when he talked. They shared an interest in classic rock bands from the '70s, American beer, and baseball, though Chris was an As fan and Nick a Red Sox supporter.

It was after watching the two teams play on tv, that Nick slid to his knees in front of his mother's couch and opened Chris' jean shorts.

"You okay with this?"

Chris gaped for a moment, the nodded dumbly. Moving around so much he hadn't had any opportunity to date or barely even kiss a guy in the last couple years, but he was way past ready.

Wrapping one of those big yet gentle hands around Chris' cock, Nick pulled it through the slit in his briefs and pumped it to hardness.

Then he lowered his head and took the tip in his mouth.

"Fuck," Chris hissed helplessly because he'd had no clue what this would feel like and the suction, the agile tongue were amazing.

Nick grinned up at him and began to hum.

Chris came embarrassingly fast and then slumped panting as his boyfriend licked cum off his fingers and continued to grin at him. "Um..."

"Anything you want to do, babe. No pressure." When he rose to rejoin Chris on the couch, he could see that Nick was turned on, cock tenting his shorts. Not hesitating at all, he reached out and cupped the bulge, then squeezed.

When Nick threw his head back and groaned, Chris felt powerful and quickly took him out of his shorts. Licking his palm, he used his saliva and Nick's own slickness to jack his dick. Nick was vocal--groaning, calling him babe, saying fuck and shit and yeah a lot, and Chris enjoyed that.

He wasn't surprised at all that he was getting a second erection, and once Nick spilled all over his hand, he used the cum to make a slick tunnel in his own hand to jerk himself off again.

Sticky and happy, Chris kissed him and tasted his own cum on Nick's tongue.

*****

College was never an option. At eighteen Chris was a full-fledged hunter, and also old enough to sell the arms his family manufactured. No longer prevented from going out on his own, he took up the southwestern quadrant. There were several desert packs in Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico, and close to the border with Mexico, a lot of law enforcement wanting the latest weaponry.

In the cities, there were also gay bars, and Chris had a fool-proof fake ID. After a day of meeting with police and pitching the guns, and in between hunts, he would find the nearest bar or club and drink and dance and hopefully find a guy to take back to his motel room.

Chris had lost his virginity to Nick the night before Gerard moved the family out of Portland. Over the next year he had a few encounters, usually in college towns where there were always places for gay guys to hook up. He found he had a type--like Nick, tall and dark haired, not feminine at all, enjoying beer and baseball and talking shit. He quickly learned that gay men came in all shapes, sizes and dispositions.

He figured his father was just from a different generation, didn't know any gay men, so calling them disparaging names was normal for him. While Chris tried to let that all slide, it was part of the reason he started referring to his father by his name when he was seventeen.

Something Chris also learned was that being a bottom didn't make him less of a man and being a top didn't make him more. Depending on the guy he was with and his moon, he liked both positions.

And he loved getting and giving blowjobs.

In Reno, around two in the morning, he and some guy he thought was named Garret barely made it into his motel room before Chris shoved him against the door and dropped to his knees, pawing at the front of the guy's tight jeans.

"Jesus, you pour yourself into these?"

"Baby powder," Garret groaned, wriggling to help get this jeans and bikini briefs down far enough for his cock to pop out. "Fuck, blow me."

"Pushy. I can work with that." Grinning, Chris wrapped his tongue around the head of a nice sized cock and listened to the man grunt in appreciation. Ovaling his lips, he sucked him to the back of his throat and fingered his heavy balls and Garret banged his head back on the door. Still grinning, Chris went to town.

He didn't make Garret come, though, and twenty minutes later he was naked on his knees and elbows on the bed as the man plowed into his slick hole. Even through the latex condom Chris could feel every inch of him filling him, and he bucked back to meet his thrusts, moaning and encouraging him to go faster, harder.

He liked to be fucked into exhaustion, and fuck that way as well. Nothing slow and tender, just getting off in a hungry, needy pummeling. Ten minutes into dancing with Garret, feeling his hard dick grinding roughly against his, he knew he'd get it from him.

Reaching back, Chris began to pump his own, hard cock, smearing pre-cum over his fingers and palm and twisting the head just the way he liked it.

With a muffled shout, he came, and Garret followed, smacking his pelvis hard against Chris' upturned ass.

Oh yeah, he'd be feeling it in the morning.

*****

At twenty Gerard called him to the family's home base outside of Seattle. It was nearly Thanksgiving so Chris figured he was being brought home for the holiday, and it was also his baby sister's ninth birthday two days after Thanksgiving. Stopping in Vegas he bought her a teddy bear dressed in a toga from Caesar's Palace, then drove overnight and through the mountains to get home.

Kate loved the bear. Their mother was happy he was home for the holiday and Chris did love the Washington compound, though he'd spent very little time there over his formative years.

Gerard had two visitors, in itself not surprising as there were usually other hunters around, but Chris didn't know these two--a grizzled man about his age with faded red hair and beard, and a young woman with dark red hair, flashing green eyes, and an angular yet attractive face. She was obviously the man's daughter.

Although he'd never met them, Chris knew of the family--the McRaes out of Scotland about two hundred years before and located now mostly around the Great Lakes. Enjoying spending time with other hunters and learning new methods of handling werewolves, Chris agreed to his father's suggestion he take the young woman, Victoria, out to the firing range and show her their latest guns in development.

During that evening, she smiled a lot, displayed her knowledge and ability with weapons, and helped his mom clean up after dinner.

Chris liked her and yet didn't see it coming at all.

As his father's command--because that's what it was--that he marry Victoria McRae sank into his shocked mind, he stared across the desk at him and saw the knowledge and satisfaction mingled with distaste on the older man's face.

He knew.

And he didn't care because his son being gay wasn't an option.

"She's a lovely girl, smart, determined, an excellent shot. She's been hunting since she was fourteen and also learning how to lead hunters."

As far as Chris knew, of the major hunting families, only the Argents were led by women.

Jesus, how long had his father been planning this?

There was a nasty smirk on Gerard's face and Chris knew his own had to be white with shock.

"So, tomorrow night you'll take her out to a nice dinner and get to know her and then you'll take her to the cabin and you'll do whatever you need to do to prove to me that you can get it up with a woman. I've allowed your perversions to go on long enough. Now you put aside your fags and you marry and give me strong grandchildren to follow in my footsteps."

With those caustic words Chris realized he'd never even be nominally in charge of his own family. Victoria would be and then any daughter he managed to get on her. It didn't matter how proficient a hunter he was, how high his sales totals were.

He was a fag and now good for only one thing.

If, and that was a huge if, he could even get aroused by a woman enough to get her pregnant.

Nodding slowly, Chris rose and retreated to his room where he drank himself into oblivion.

*****

Despite his still aching head, dinner was pleasant enough. Victoria was intelligent and well-read. They discussed books, movies, politics--staying away from talking about their families and werewolves. Chris liked women, he got along well with them, he just didn't want them sexually, and he had no clue how he was going to do this.

After dinner and a shared dessert of carrot cake, he grew more and more quiet the closer they got back to the compound and the cabin by the lake. Inside, as Victoria turned on a couple lamps and adjusted the heat, Chris watched her helplessly, hands in the pockets of his pants, trying not to rock nervously on the balls of his feet.

Finally, the woman turned to him, a tight smile on her face. "I know this came as a surprise to you. I was thirteen when my father told me I'd be marrying the Argent heir when I turned eighteen. I did that three weeks ago, by the way. So, why don't we sit and talk about how that's going to work and, oh, yes, even though it's an old-fashioned sentiment, I plan on wearing white for my wedding, so I'm staying a virgin tonight. However, we probably should do something to make both the old perverts happy."

Surprised by her boldness, Chris stared at her, then sank down onto the couch, turning to face her when she joined him. "Okay. Yes, Gerard told me last night. I hadn't...I hadn't given marriage any thought at all."

"You never thought about carrying on the line?" She seemed surprised by that and he could only shrug.

Should he tell her the truth? Would it drive her away? Would she call him nasty names and refuse to marry him?

And, if she did that, what would Gerard do to him?

For the first time since he was barely a teenager Chris wished he was straight, because he was scared. Scared of his father and his future, or potential lack of one, and the strong woman sitting next to him, eyeing him with a cool interest.

"Look, Chris, neither of us has a choice here. That's just the kind of families we grew up in. So, we make the best of it. I enjoyed dinner tonight, talking with you. We have a lot of the same interests, and you're almost as good a shot as I am." He nearly smiled at that. "I've been trained to both hunt and manage a household, and I'm good at both and have known all my life that was my future. Look, it could have been much worse. My older sister's husband is nearly fifteen years older than her and already had two kids. We're nearly the same age, you're cute and sexy, and I know I'm not bad to look at. We're compatible."

But, they weren't.

And he had no idea how to tell her.

They spent another hour or so talking, Victoria slowly dragging him out of the shell he'd found himself in after Gerard's announcement. At one point she admitted that, while she had no problem hunting, she didn't particularly like that she was raised the way both of them had been and, if they could do it a different way with their own kids, she wouldn't mind.

Chris knew she was taking a risk telling him that, but there was something knowing in her eyes when she said it, as if knew him well enough already to know a part of him had always wanted a normal life. He'd never given children of his own a thought, so thoughts of raising them away from the truth of werewolves had never crossed his mind, but now he could see it as a possibility.

Slowly he nodded and when Victoria leaned forward and kissed him, he let his lips part and kissed her back. Outside of tasting her lip gloss and smelling her perfume, it wasn't that different from kissing a man. After a few minutes, he was the one to deepen the kiss and wrap his arms around her.

It wasn't horrible and, from the soft moans she was making, Victoria was obviously enjoying herself.

When one of her strong hands pressed against his cock, an image of the last man he'd been with flashed into his head, and he let it come with no guilt. He liked this woman, but he didn't want her, and so he'd do whatever he had to do to get aroused. So, when she took his hand in her other one and slid it under her skirt and between her thighs, he rubbed her damp heat through silky panties and brought her off without too much fumbling. As they kissed and panted into each others mouths and she shuddered in his arms, her fingers opened his fly and slid into the waistband of his boxers to jerk his cock to hardness.

Fantasizing he was on the dance floor of a gay club, being jacked off by a tall, dark stranger, Chris came with a strangled groan.

*****

They wed just after the new year and honeymooned in San Francisco--a trip paid for by Gerard as an obvious jab at Chris since he'd murmured 'if you can't get it up with your wife, imagine you're giving it to one of those queers in a bathhouse' when he handed him airplane tickets.

The hotel was nice, the bridal suite elegant, the champagne and chocolates compliments of the staff.

And Chris did manage to get it up, fantasizing about faceless men while moving on top of Victoria in the darkened bed, and he came but found it somewhat unsatisfactory. He was pretty sure she wasn't thrilled either, because she'd whimpered in pain the first time he pushed into her, and then just held him to her, breathing into his neck.

They slept separately on the big bed and Chris awoke the next morning to find Victoria curled in a robe against the padded headboard, sipping a glass of the remaining champagne and eating a chocolate from the large box.

"You know, there are rumors out there about you, Chris. You're a strong hunter who follows the code to the letter, an excellent shot, a great salesman, and you're never seen with any women. Only men."

Barely awake, Chris blinked up at her, then sat up to take the glass she was holding out to him. He drank deeply, then took a chocolate truffle from the box. "When did you first hear that rumor?" It was obvious he meant the last one.

"I was sixteen or so." She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Do you believe it?" he quietly asked her, wondering if she would now condemn him, but also wondering, if she believed he was gay, why she'd spent the last several weeks getting to know him and seeming genuinely to like him. For his part, he'd had more fun than he'd expected to have with her and really did like her.

"Yeah. I also don't care. That first night in the cabin it was pretty obvious you had no clue how to touch a woman, though you're a quick learner and I did enjoy myself. If I hadn't been able to get you off, we both would have been in trouble, so believe me, I was relieved when you did orgasm." She took a sip from her glass then set it and the box of candy aside before turning to him. "We have to give our fathers at least one grandchild and I do want a kid. I'd love a daughter to pamper and raise as a normal kid who loves clothes and romantic comedies and dolls, or a little boy who I can teach that being a man doesn't mean he has to be tough and emotionless. I figure you'd like that, too, either one."

At his nod, she continued, "Last night wasn't great, but then I was a virgin and I'm pretty sure you've never been with a woman, right?" This time she didn't even wait for his nod. "But, we proved we could do it. If you can't bring yourself to fuck me very often, I have a couple toys to keep me occupied. I don't love you, Chris, and it won't hurt me if you fuck guys, as long as you're discrete and safe. Maybe, once I've had a couple kids, I'll take lovers, too."

"Outside the bed, we get along well, we have a lot of things in common, and I think you'll be a really good father."

Slowly Chris absorbed all that, then gave her a small smile. "So...you want to get cleaned up, go down for breakfast, and then head out to sight see?"

"I've already showered, so you go ahead while I dress, and If we can hit the Godiva factory, yes to sight seeing, because these chocolates are amazing."

Laughing, he found he wasn't embarrassed at all to rise naked from the bed and head for the bathroom.

*****

A couple of years passed and they were relatively good ones. Chris and Victoria made the decision to stay on the West Coast. They liked Northern California and, although they never lived in San Francisco, they were close enough for Chris to find what he needed in a city where being gay was common and, for the most part, accepted.

To his surprise, he also discovered he needed Victoria. She'd become his best friend, his confidante, and an excellent companion. 

Mostly Gerard left them alone, only appearing or demanding their presence at holidays, but he seemed to accept the real affection between the couple. Maybe he thought Chris was cured or something, but he only made a few insinuations beneath his breath to him and seemed to be impressed by Victoria's strength and intelligence.

Chris found that sex with his wife wasn't a horrible chore. They weren't intimate all that often, but enough that when she got pregnant, it wasn't a big surprise.

They were both happy, though, and Gerard was over the moon. Settling down in southern Oregon, Victoria quit hunting, and when Allison was born, Chris had no problem accepting his wife's decision not to return to active hunting.

As Victoria slept in her hospital bed after nearly eighteen hours of labor, Chris held his little girl who looked up at him through unfocused eyes. She had a mop of dark hair on her head and was above average in size and completely healthy. He loved her completely, more than he'd ever expected.

"Things are going to be different for you, Allison," he murmured, cradling her like was the most precious thing in his life, which she was. "I can't get out of hunting, Gerard will never allow it, but you're not going to know anything about it. You're going to have tea parties with your dolls and learn to swim and skin your knees on the playground. You're going to wear pretty dresses and beg your mom to start wearing make-up way too soon, and you're going to fall in love some day and give me heart failure over your choices of dates. And I won't care if it's a boy or a girl, I'm not going to like them, but I'll never take that choice from you or disparage you over it." Bending his head he brushed his lips over her tiny forehead and she made an adorable face at him that choked him up. "If you want to learn to cook and sew, that's fine. If you want to play sports, we'll support you. If you want to dance or sing or write poetry or join the army or become President, whatever you want, it's yours."

"Yes," Victoria said softly, drawing his eyes to her as she pushed herself up in her bed and he rose to sit next to her and hand her their daughter. "We'll still have to move around a lot, but, otherwise, she'll have as normal a life as we can make it. What we never had." She gave him a watery smile and Chris kissed her tenderly.

*****

The years passed swiftly. When Allison was nearly three Chris' mother died and, after that, only he had any physical contact with Gerard. His daughter knew her grandfather only through birthday and Christmas cards and monetary gifts. Victoria's father was killed on a hunt soon after that and she had no other close family. Once Kate reached adulthood, she started dropping in on them between hunts, and she obviously adored Allison. The girl returned the feeling and they were very close. While his sister didn't approve of their decision to keep Allison in the dark, and had become a proficient and deadly hunter, she agreed not to tell her anything and Chris trusted her.

Their only disappointment in their marriage was that Victoria suffered three miscarriages by the time Allison was eight and then never got pregnant again. They discussed trying various treatments, in vitro fertilization, using a surrogate, but finally decided that their daughter was all they needed.

Gerard wasn't happy but accepted from the miscarriages that Chris was doing his duty and didn't prod him about it too much.

When Allison was eleven and they were living in Santa Monica, Chris heard about the extermination of the Hale Pack in Beacon Hills. While they'd never lived there, he knew his sister was familiar with the town and had monitored that pack. Two years before Chris himself had spent a week there determining they were peaceful and well-entrenched in the community. The pack consisted of almost all born wolves with a few consensual bitings of mates, all within the code. His liaison had been the younger brother of the Alpha, Peter Hale, a vibrant and charming man a few years younger than him. Chris was pretty sure there'd been some flirtation from the wolf, but he hadn't pursued it. Sleeping with a werewolf wasn't something he was planning to ever do.

A few phone calls and Chris learned that Peter had survived but was severely burned and expected to die soon. There were two other survivors, teenagers five or six years older than Allison, and they'd fled the town.

He wondered if one had become Alpha, but then he put the Hales out of his mind. He didn't like that a peaceful pack had been wiped out, but not all hunters followed the code and it was also possible it was an accident. He remembered the house was surrounded closely by the forest full of evergreen trees that easily caught fire.

A week later or so Kate swung through town, treating Allison to trips to the ice rink, the archery range, the cinema, and, of course, the mall, and they all enjoyed having his boisterous sister visiting.

*****

"Beacon Hills?"

Victoria was looking at the map of the county, mostly dense forest surrounding a few towns, including the county seat of Beacon Hills. She shrugged her shoulders but also frowned up at him. "We just got settled here two months ago, Chris. Allison wasn't happy coming here after nearly a year in Walla Walla. She's really going to be ticked off to move again so soon."

"I know, but the semester just ended so she can start the spring semester with everyone else. It's not optimal, but these so called animal attacks...We can't ignore them."

"Why did Gerard ask you over Kate? She spent time there before the last pack was wiped out, right? And we've barely made a dent at getting control of the three packs in this area."

"You know it's better not to argue with or question the old man. Allison will be fine and, I know you just started a new job, but there's a mall outside of Beacon Hills. Surely some store there could use a buyer."

"I suppose." Victoria sighed, then rolled up the maps. "The real estate market is terrible, though. I know we got this house at a bargain, but it's going to be a bitch to sell it."

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Well, that's Gerard's problem, isn't it. If we didn't have to store an arsenal in every house, we'd just rent."

Victoria snorted in agreement, patted his hand on her stomach, and then pulled away to go start packing. "You get to tell our daughter."

"Yeah, so not looking forward to that," he said wryly before heading for the stairs to the bedrooms where Allison was doing whatever teenage girls do over the Christmas break.

*****

Everything had gone so wrong so fast. Kate telling Allison about werewolves. Deaths by supposed animals right and left. The revelation that Allison was dating a werewolf followed that same night by the truth about the Hale fire which made Chris realize he didn't know his sister at all.

Kate's murder in front of Allison's eyes, his own failure to protect them both and, then, Derek Hale, a Beta wolf never meant for leadership, killing his psychotic uncle to take the Alpha from him.

Gerard's arrival while the family was denigrated and humiliated wasn't a surprise at all.

Through it all Victoria was his rock, but with Gerard living under their roof and only nominally deferring to her, Chris began to notice some things about his wife he wasn't happy about.

She seemed more bloodthirsty, as if having Allison exposed to the truth allowed her freedom to express her own low opinions about werewolves. Over the years with her only in an advisory and organizational role in his hunts, he'd forgotten she'd been a skilled hunter herself, and had killed over two dozen werewolves by the time they met. More and more she listened to Gerard and supported his decisions, even going to work with him at the high school to spy on Derek's growing pack.

And she absolutely hated Scott McCall. While Chris wasn't at all happy his daughter had been dating a werewolf and had forbad her from seeing him after the revelation, he didn't blame either of them. When they'd met Scott had been a new wolf and Allison had thought he was just a boy. She hadn't been raised to fear werewolves and, maybe they'd failed her there, but all they could do was keep them apart and train her the best they could at such a late age, because if they didn't, Gerard would.

Chris' father had never approved of how they raised Allison and, now that everything was out in the open, he was determined she be brought into the fight as the future Argent leader.

When Chris tried to protest, the old man made not so subtle threats about how he was lucky to have her, how, despite his perversions, she'd been a gift from Gerard, and he could take her back just as easily.

So, Chris gave in and followed his father's commands and continued to be the perfect little hunter, not arguing that this war his father wanted was against the code or that none of the werewolves were killers.

And then, one night as he hunted the kanima, Victoria stumbled out of a dark building and fell into his arms, a large, bloody bite on her shoulder.

*****

"You don't have to do this," Chris whispered to her as he rocked her on his lap and held her so tightly he knew he had to be hurting her, but she didn't complain, just cupped his cheek and kissed him sadly.

"I don't want to be one of them, Chris. I'm going to turn, I can feel it. It's not going to kill me, so I have to take care of it myself."

"How can you do that to Allison?" How could she do that to him?

"She's strong and you're here for her." She kissed him again, murmuring, "I regret letting Gerard influence me, being so angry at the McCall boy, but it's too late for me to fix any of that. You have to be Allison's rock, Chris. I know you can. Don't let her follow Gerard's path like I did. Don't follow it yourself. We broke from him nearly twenty years ago for a reason, a good one. He destroyed Kate."

"I know." Tears prickled in his eyes and he squeezed them shut and drew her head to his chest so he could press kisses to her soft hair. "I'll protect Ally as best I can, but you still don't have to do this. We can run, find a pack that can help you, or even go to Hale."

"No. I don't want to be a werewolf, Chris. I can't do that. I don't have that strength. I was raised in the code and this is what we do. We can't risk me going feral. I could hurt you or Allison. I won't do that," she stressed and he felt her tears soak through his shirt as she started crying.

"The full moon is in two nights."

"I know and I'll do it then. I'll make my peace. I'll..."

Lifting her head by the chin, Chris kissed her passionately, lovingly, and easily lifted her to carry her to their bed.

They were rarely intimate any more, both taking lovers outside their marriage, but they loved each other, and that night they made the most gentle and best love of their life together.

*****

After Chris helped Victoria die, after he tried to console Allison, after he ordered his beautiful wife cremated so she wouldn't come back, he spent a week in a drunken stupor and Gerard got his claws into his grief-stricken, confused and lost daughter.

Coming in from a hunt well after midnight, Gerard found him in his study, a nearly empty bottle of whisky sitting in front of him. Chris hadn't shaved since the funeral, hadn't bathed either, and he didn't care.

Sitting across from him, Gerard sneered, "Don't try to convince me you actually cared about her. You didn't deserve a woman like Victoria, but I was lucky her father was old fashioned enough to accept a contract for marriage to a worthless faggot. If he hadn't, you'd have continued to be an embarrassment and we wouldn't have our perfect leader. At least you managed that much."

Refusing to let his father's harsh words bother him, Chris let them go in one ear and out the other, but that first statement wouldn't go away and, after listening to more diatribes along the same lines, he finally interjected with, "I did love her, you son of a bitch. We made a good life together. We were happy, and then you sent us here and everything went to Hell. Her death is your fault."

Gerard actually seemed surprised Chris had dared to talk back, but then he was on his feet, leaning over the desk and backhanding his son with surprising strength. Spinning out of the chair, Chris fell to his knees and vomited helplessly. "Sober up. The only thing you're good at is hunting, and you're going to do exactly as I say from now on."

"You mean what Ally says," he muttered from his hunched over position, shakily wiping his mouth on the his sleeve.

"Well, she's young. She needs guidance, and I'm sure she doesn't need know her father is a queer who regularly takes it up the ass from effeminate fags, so you just keep your mouth shut and follow orders."

Chris felt his heart start to race. If Gerard told Allison--one more thing on top of everything else--how could she take it other than be horrified and confused and fall more into her grandfather's snare?

Slowly he nodded and nearly vomited again as Gerard left the room chuckling to himself.

*****

After Gerard's betrayal and hopefully his death, after the end of the kanima's rampage, after Allison's break down, Chris guided her through the last week of school, then used the funds from Victoria's life insurance policy to take them both to France. Avoiding the Argent strongholds in the Alps and Pyrenees, they settled in a little flat in Paris, and let themselves heal.

Two weeks into their stay, after a late lunch at a café that was becoming one of their favorites, they strolled along the Left Bank, stopping at little boutiques and galleries, and just being with each other. As the afternoon edged towards evening, Chris noticed that his daughter had color on her cheeks again and, while her eyes still often held sorrow and a far away look, they also occasionally twinkled.

They did so when she bought a scarf for Lydia that she was sure her friend would like, and while they hadn't discussed ever returning to Beacon Hills, Chris realized they probably would. He wanted his daughter to finish high school and, without Gerard ordering them around, with their own mutual decision not to hunt anymore, Beacon Hills was as good as any place. After all, there were werewolves everywhere, and they already had the house.

It would be hard to go back to the town where more than half their family had died, but maybe they needed that closure.

And, maybe Chris needed to come clean about some other things.

That night they sat in their tiny sitting room with its view of Notre Dame in the distance, drinking tea, with the radio on low, and Chris said, "Our fathers arranged our marriage when your mom was fourteen. I didn't find out until she turned eighteen and we met for the first time. We were married within two months." He felt Allison's eyes on him, her surprise, and slowly looked over at her. "We came to love each other very much, but more, we became best friends. I never knew I needed someone like her until she came into my life, and I will miss her till the day I die. I wish she hadn't chosen to follow the code, but I can understand why, with the way she was raised, she couldn't face turning."

"There's more to this story, isn't there, dad." It wasn't a question. His daughter was eerily perceptive.

"I'll never marry another woman, and I wish I could say that's simply because I couldn't ever live with and love another woman after your mother. While that's partly true, it's not the real reason." Taking a deep breath, he set down his cup, and leaned forward, propping his sweaty palms on his knees. "The truth is, Ally, I'm gay."

For a long moment, Allison stared at him, then visibly swallowed and nodded. "Okay. Um...did mom know?"

"She suspected before we married. There were rumors. I confirmed it the day after our wedding."

"Did she...was she okay with it?"

"Yes."

Allison licked her lips and set aside her own cup before rising to join Chris on the sofa, curling one leg beneath her the way her mom often did so that she was turned to face him. "And you loved her?" she asked quietly, then flushed. "And, um, I mean, I exist."

Smiling slightly, Chris reached out and took one of her fluttering hands. "We managed to be together a few times and in that togetherness we created the best thing to happen to both of us."

Giving him a watery smile in return, Allison squeezed his hand. "You're not saying it, but I'm guessing that Gerard didn't give you a choice."

"No, he didn't. I didn't have to agree, but I learned at an early age to pick my battles and that was one I was going to lose. I had no doubts he eventually would have had me killed." He wasn't surprised that she wasn't surprised by that, and pulled her into his arms, letting her head come to rest on his shoulder. "Your mom and I had a really good life together, Ally."

"But...to deny who you really are, that had to be hard, dad."

He'd told himself he'd be honest with her, but this was harder than admitting he was gay. Slowly he murmured, "We had an arrangement and I was discrete." Unless she asked, he saw no need to tell her of her mother's lovers. They'd had no impact on their lives. Neither had his. "I didn't allow myself to get attached to any of them."

"But now mom's gone and so is Gerard, or at least his influence is."

"I don't know if there's a man out there for me, honey. I don't know if I care to look, but I'm not going to hide away my true self anymore. I hope you can accept that."

"You're my dad. I love you." She held him tightly and he felt a few tears drip onto his neck. "Mom was amazing."

"She really was, and we really did love each other. It maybe wasn't a normal love between spouses, but it was real."

"Well, nothing about us is normal, dad. We used to hunt werewolves and I'm in love with one," she chuckled wetly, and despite his misgivings over that statement, Chris smiled and kissed her forehead.

"So...The Louvre tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

******

They'd been back in Beacon Hills for three days and were still unpacking and cleaning--the amount of dust that stacked up in four months was amazing. Chris could tell Allison was uncomfortable returning to the house where her mother had died and her grandfather had run roughshod over her, but he could also tell she was determined to fight through her feelings.

He'd offered to move them to another house but she'd been firm about wanting to stay.

She got her stubbornness from her mother.

Victoria had been dead for nearly six months and thinking about her no longer brought pain. Chris was determined to focus on all the good things they'd had together, the fun they'd had. After her death he'd bought new bedding but hadn't moved out of the room they'd shared and, like Allison, he was stubborn, so he still slept on the same side of that four poster bed.

If he woke a few times reaching for his wife, well they'd been married for twenty years and that was natural. Even though sex between them had become very rare after they'd given up on having more children, he'd enjoyed holding her, touching her hand or cheek. Attraction hadn't been there but love and tenderness had.

But, tonight it was too early for bed and he was restless. Allison was out with Lydia, rekindling their friendship on a double date that had nothing to do with werewolves, his daughter had promised, and it was the last weekend before the start of the school year so he hadn't given her a curfew.

During the last four months he'd learned to trust her and give her space.

Chris tried to read, and when that failed, turned on the television, but, by nine thirty he was bored. Grabbing his keys and wallet he left the house in his SUV--which he still needed for his legitimate job selling arms to law enforcement--and headed downtown. Beacon Hills had a smattering of bars and clubs. The Jungle was the overtly gay club for the younger set.

But, there was a much quieter bar that had a small, loyal clientele and, while he'd never been there while Victoria lived--because he never looked for companionship in the towns in which they resided--he knew about it.

It wasn't until he was on his second beer, half watching a football game on the television hanging behind the bar, and a man sat down beside him and ordered a glass of white wine, that he remembered who had told him about this bar nearly a decade before.

"Back in town to cause trouble?"

Chris didn't look over, just sipped his beer and asked, "Back from the dead to do the same?"

Peter Hale chuckled and tossed a fifty dollar bill down for the bartender who brought his glass. "Bring a second glass and leave the bottle." When the man did so and then walked off to deal with other customers, Peter poured wine into the empty glass and nudged it towards Chris. "Sometimes we get second chances."

"I think this is your third." He took a drink of the wine, though.

"Semantics, Christopher." Peter raised his glass and Chris finally turned to him, hesitating for a moment before mirroring him. "How about...to finally being who we truly are."

"...I can drink to that." They touched glasses and drank.

End


End file.
